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May 2014
I love to watch you sing in your car.

The way you play invisible pianos and guitars.
The way you scream out all your favorite lines.
The way your face tells the story of the music.

I love to watch our hands.

When they are interlocked and unbreakable.
When they search for one another constantly.
When they run over each others bones.
When they pull our bodies closer together.

I love to watch us.

Becoming one.
Becoming something more.
Becoming better than before.

And when you reach for me in the dark of your car, singing out the words of one of our songs, just to find me missing.

Know that I am saturated in the lyrics you scream, and the fingerprints on your window.

Ivy Rose
Written by
Ivy Rose
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